


Hefty Holidays

by Fatlockandfeeding



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Chubby!John, M/M, Slash, Weight Gain, chubby!Sherlock, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatlockandfeeding/pseuds/Fatlockandfeeding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are unwinding in Baker Street after overindulging at a holiday party, each of them playfully teasing the other about putting on winter weight. (Surprisingly, John's not the only one this year!) Bonus points if things take a turn for the romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hefty Holidays

They almost hadn’t accepted the invitation, because  _really_? A Christmas party at Mycroft’s? It was obviously going to be stuffy and boring, and full of dull politicians, which was ultimately what ended up convincing Sherlock to go, because it would be incredibly fun to deduce them, as well as embarrass Mycroft in front of his stuck-up peers.   
  
On top of that, as Sherlock pointed out to John, Mycroft always provided the  _best_  food. [[MORE]]

So they’d gone, and John had stuffed crab cake after crab cake in his mouth and watched in amusement as Sherlock disturbed the careful balance of the party, simply by being, well, Sherlock.   
  
Sherlock had gotten bored at one point though, and had joined John in the corner, a glass of rich eggnog in his hand and a plate of goodies in the other. When Sherlock had worked through his plate of chipolatas, sausage rolls, crab cakes and rich potato salad, he got back up, and then returned again with two plates of dessert for them. John had never been a big fan of fruitcake, but then, he’d never had  _this_  fruitcake: rich and fluffy and covered in sweet brandy icing. They also munched their way through Christmas pudding, trifle, and a large portion of each of apple crumble and ice cream. 

By the time they had hopped back into a cab to Baker Street, John’s belly was warm and stuffed and he wanted nothing more than to shimmy out of his good trousers (which were fitting a lot more snugly than they had a few months ago) and put on a pair of cozy pyjama bottoms. He heard a slight grunt to the right of him and looked over in surprise as he saw Sherlock unbutton the top button of his trousers, a small lip of fat sliding out as he did so, accompanied the the detective’s relieved sigh. 

John didn’t say anything until they got up to Baker street, and then he headed straight to his room and changed into a pair of warm pyjama bottoms, inspecting his belly in the mirror as he did so. Yep, definite winter weight. Twenty pounds of it, he’d say. His usually flat stomach was jiggling and round now, and John shrugged. It’s just what happened in the holiday season.   
  
When he came back out he found Sherlock sitting on the couch, still in his unbuttoned trousers, rubbing his belly and groaning.  
  
"I ate too much," he whined, and John snorted.

"You’ve been doing that a lot recently. Might need to get yourself some new trousers."

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk. You’ve put on eighteen pounds.”

John laughed and walked over to Sherlock, bending over and pulling up the man’s shirt before he could protest, reaching down to jiggle the man’s small gut. “And how much have you put on, hmm?”

Sherlock made an affronted sound and shoved John’ hand off him. “Oh piss off,” he murmured, his face flushing red, and John drew his hand back guiltily.

"Hey," he said gently, "hey, Sherlock…no, it’s fine. Happens to all of us in the winter." He reached down and pinched Sherlock’s belly, smiling. "It’s cute on you. Very cute."

Sherlock snorted. “ _Cute_.”

John nodded and climbed onto the couch next to Sherlock, reaching over to rub one hand against the man’s white, flabby belly. “ _Really_  cute.”

Sherlock pondered for a few moments and then reached out with both hands, rubbing John’s belly. “…I like yours also.”   
  
John grinned, and then he couldn’t explain why he did what he did next. Perhaps it was the eggnog and mulled wine he’d had at the party, but he pulled Sherlock onto his lap, grinning slightly as their potbellies pushed together.   
  
Sherlock looked shocked, but then he paused, licked his lips, and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to John’s own.   
  
"Merry Christmas, John," he said bashfully, pulling away.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Sherlock."


End file.
